A/N: I'm posting a series of little chapters I wrote for an AoKise idea I had in my head. Instead of waiting, I'll put them all up at once- Which is my fault entirely, but hey, it's been a while since I wrote something. So I couldn't help myself.

I'm no good with summaries, so- Oh, right- this has yaoi and all that stuff...so, yeah.

Anyway, enjoy. o/ Constructive criticism is most definitely welcome.

Holy shit, Aomine thought.

Holy shit, I think I'm in love with this idiot.

Aomine then continued dribbling around the whole court outside, to the point where he was breaking a sweat. So he gave up and sat on the ground, cursing himself over and over again.

But it wouldn't stop.

The images running through his head, they wouldn't stop.

He started dating Kise to have a change, to dump him later on because for a while he wasn't even interested. He thought of it as a good way to make himself feel better before he gave up on basketball completely. And he had a passion for that sport, so hell no.

But the fucking images. Not images of Kise's sweating body underneath him in bed, not the appealing sounds of protest he made when Aomine touched him there or there, not how his eyes glazed over with lust when he gave him that look, the look that set his body on fire. Not his slender frame, not his golden-blonde hair. None of those things.

He couldn't stop thinking about Kise's smile. His laugh. The way his heart beat a mile a minute when their chests were pressed against one another's. How his face heated up all interesting shades of red when Aomine teased him. How he tasted so sweet that it would put Murasakibara's favourite flavours to shame. How every day he used a different body wash on his skin, which made him want to nuzzle that creamy-white neck of his—Only to see the embarrassed look on his face.

Because for some messed-up reason Aomine will never understand, it made him feel—lighter. Anything Kise said or did, made it feel like he was in Heaven. And he'd never felt an emotion this strong before that it was suffocating him. He had no idea what to do with it.

All he could do was dribble it around, like the ball in his hand.

Maybe now would have been a good time to answer one of many of Momoi's text messages.

"I'm such a fucking homo." he groaned.

"Yes you are."

"…"

"Good afternoon, Aomine-kun."

Needless to say, Aomine jumped out of his skin. Kuroko still managed to appear out of nowhere like that, fuck sake.

"Tetsu… Now's not a good time. What do you want?"

"You must tell him, Aomine-kun."

"What the hell are you blabbering about this time?"

"That you love him."

Aomine choked. "Fuck no, that's just plain gay—"

"Aomine-kun. You are still as stubborn as ever," Kuroko took the ball from him and bounced it off Aomine's head.

"Ow—The fuck?! Don't tell me what to do!"

"But I have never seen you make this face when we were together."

Silence.

"…Tetsu, don't—"

Kuroko shook his head.

Aomine didn't say anything else, because he understood what Kuroko meant. Wolf pack intuition, or some shit like that.

"Good luck." His little shadow gave him a thumbs up, before running off.

Him and Akashi have definitely been talking, Aomine figured.

Now the problem lay in how he was going to do this—say this—without screwing up. Because hell, he wasn't familiar with love at all. Not of this sort, anyway.

But it appeared that he had a new problem this time, and it was just a few blocks away.

Haizaki Shougo, a ruthless basketball player who didn't give two shits about his teammates, let alone basketball itself. Akashi had recently kicked him out of the pack due to his violent streak.

How he managed to have Kise pinned against a fence, revenge flaring in his crazed expression, was probably inevitable.

They had never been on good terms. That's not to say Haizaki was ever on good terms with any of them—

But what with the fresh, new bruise on Kise's lower jaw, he had a hunch that he was soon to be fucked. Quite literally, actually. Because it just dawned on him that the man was getting uncomfortably close, fidgeting with the blonde's shirt buttons—

Aomine didn't waste a moment when he grabbed Haizaki off his Kise, sending a punch straight for his face and knocking him out in one blow.

Despite being proud of his work, he had no intention of stopping. It was only when Kise reminded him that he would never be able to play basketball again if he kept that up, did he hold back.

Kise—There he was. And Aomine didn't even have time to think about what he was going to say now that they were in this situation.

Or—Or maybe this situation is the best, something in the back of his mind told him. He ignored it.

Either way, he decided it would be safe to press his foot against Haizaki's stomach, just sending some aftershocks as a fair warning when he was conscious again.

Aomine grabbed the startled Kise's hand and walked off.

None of them spoke until they were far enough from the scene, where Aomine stopped in his tracks and Kise followed suit.

"If you come across that delinquent again, just run, alright? I don't want that asshole touching you."

Kise gave him a childish pout. "I could've taken care of that."

Aomine scowled.

"Don't give me that crap. You're a model, you're not supposed to have bruises and all that…stuff. Bad for your image." Sigh. "I think."

Tell that to the rest of the bruises and bitemarks on my body, Aominecchi…

Both of them stood there, hand-in-hand. Blushing.

"…Thanks, though."

"…"

"…"

"The thought of anyone else owning you sickens me."

Kise blinked. "Where did that come from?"

—And he couldn't see Aomine's face anymore. Just the cloth of the other's uniform shirt pressed against the side of his face.

Ba-thump. Ba-thump.

"From here."

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